Flight of a Soul
by CkatNewGeneration
Summary: For a soul that bent time and space, it still follows the course of Life and endures its' hardships. [SI OC story]
1. Before We Start: About the Story

"Having died once before, I don't really think much of Death anymore.

Life was still the same as ever.

Sure, there was some sort of witchcraft here,

And I was reborn anew.

But I was still me.

My soul was still the same as ever,"

"There were a few tweaks though."

* * *

_**Disclaimer: All Rights Reserved to the ORIGINAL owner/s.**_

_**I possess nothing except for my character.**_


	2. The End: The Beginning

You die, get born as a different person, live as some kind of plant or something, then die again.

And you can't help but wonder what happens in between. It's one of those things people try to wrap their minds around. I mean, you can't just expect anyone say,

"Hey guys, I went to heaven and this-This abomination technically isn't my body," No one has ever explained what happened before life nor after death. Theories are made but not proven; high fluffy clouds beneath the stars with an entricately designed golden gate? I don't know, maybe rolling green meadows dotted with flowers that stretches beyond the horizon? Or just a black pit of absolutely nothing?

Even I, a messed up soul, can't crack that nut. That nut will never be opened, end of story.

How does it feel to be reincarnated, you might ask. I'll be frank. It feels like you slept in a bus for two hours straight, especially the times when the all the muscles got frustrated at you for moving a damn leg. Otherwise there was no other change excluding everything physical about you really. Now that I think about it I wasn't sure who I used to be.

And I meant that by, my name, age, birthday et cetera. There was some kind of sick joke where I could only remember things that happened around me and not me myself too. Not necessarily people around me like say, parents but more on useless stuff-books I read, movies, how to use a computer, and so on. Except the fact I do remember being a female.

Depressing but I guess that's why I have a new life. I'm going to start from square one all over again and having certain memories was probably going to hold me back somehow.

...So back to real-time happenings, I have to deal with the young stage of life. I didn't scream my lungs out no, unless I'm hungry, tired or needed to change my undergarments. I bet it must've been a small miracle to my parents because damn. I don't need to see their faces to know they're stressed.

...There's nothing much to talk about in this stage other than try to get a grip on controlling my limbs.

To summarize it all, I was bored 95 percent of the time.

Taking notice of my surroundings was difficult. My soul may be I-don't-know-how-old but my baby body is a literal baby body. It obviously was never meant to contain a reincarnated soul. A reincarnated soul with memories to be specific.

I pulled an attempt anyways and found out that the house I was living in had an old-style design. It was a cabin-with beams of wood slightly under the slanted roof, pillars of wood holding the foundation and furniture of wood everywhere. The crib I sat on had a soft matress on a slab of wood and of course had wooden prison bars because being short sucks.

Baby eyes aren't focused enough to mind little details just yet. I haven't really seen most of the cabin;I'm planning to once I can get my legs to steer me into the right direction that is. Oh and I haven't accomplished standing yet therefore I have alot of excercises to do before that.

I have a hunch that might be something more to the eye somewhere and I can't pinpoint it. Omitting my mental age from the equation, it was a disturbing thought for a young one. This is could be one of those cliches yet since my luck transported me to some show it should be correct. In reality, I wasn't even sure if I was "isekaid" but hey, that's what plot twists are for. They're there to mess with people and prove them wrong at certain points.

Or was that cliffhangers? They both suck either way.

First day of being reincarnated-Status update: It sucks and my head hurts.


	3. The Beginning: Discovery

I started to focus on more important things than say, why babies suck their thumbs.

My senses haven't quite improved yet. It made observing difficult and for some reason, made me sleepy. Maybe it was the amount of effort I put in or perhaps my personal curfew hasn't been scheduled-I was still a baby after all. Anyways I couldn't see nor hear anything more than less than half a meter or so. Meaning listening to conversations or finding my parents' faces weren't going to happen anytime soon. Which was a perfect reason why I decided to take my first step while waiting.

I used the bars of the crib as a hand-rail as I hoisted myself up. It was more of crab-walking than actual walking. I finally stood upright after what I was pretty sure was hours and placed my right foot first;and then the world bent sideways and I fell on my face. Someone laughed from beside me, I turned to see that it was a woman.

Her face was blurry even at this short distance. She looks to be a bit after her prime because of her bunned dirty white hair. I squinted and I found out that it was more of a dusty brown texture. Meanwhile her eyes had laughter and weariness, slightly similar caramelized chocolate giving her an overall soft appearance with her oval glasses. Again, it was blurred so I wasn't certain if my description was correct.

And then the woman spoke questioningly, her eyes at my level. What came next was confusing-the language she used was not English and yet somehow not Japanese either. It sounded literally out-of-this-world too and did not help me with my knowledge of the universe the least bit. She didn't repeat herself and only waited for a reply.

Oh, I don't know anymore. I stood upright again and put one tiny foot before the other slowly and carefully. After that, without any response from the woman, I was able to take slow baby steps.

From that point, I went to where I last saw the woman. I planted my tiny palm on her forehead and mumbled something incoherent. I noticed the wrinkles on the sides of her face and despite that it did not make her any less pretty. She stopped crouching and faced me like a giant-which from my vantage point seemed understandable. She bent slightly again and booped me on my nose.

I sneezed and landed on my behind.

A string of laughter came from her. A bubble of sadness floated in me. I have forgotten something. I would think that it was important but at the same time I felt like it was better not remembering what it is. It was blurry like my eyesight;but still there. It was still there somewhere and I had a vague feeling that it won't fade.

The bubble floated out of my reach and the woman-my mom?- patted me.

She patted me once again on the head and turned away. I wasn't sure if I got caught up in the moment to notice but afterwards I think I saw a glimpse of her soul right pass her dark chocolatey eyes. There was a flicker of emotion cleverly buried inside. Which emotion it was I had no clue. What I do know is that there was something more to the eye there. Quite literally. I plan to find out what that is (also quite literally)

I hope my lack of joy from her pat didn't actually depress her.

Before I could try and double check she had already left towards to one of the left-handed rooms. Unfortunately my crib was back against a wall facing the carpeted fireplace and was no closer to the room to my left, about four meters far I think?

There was not much to do anymore. I stared lamely at the glimmering fire, the silence disturbed only by the occasional crackle and hiss of the flames. Judging from the light outside the Sun set towards the evening sky, slowly creeping from the room and back to the window from the farthest left wall. The shadows from the furniture sprung and took their places, merely twitching from the dim light from our fireplace.

I dozed off sometime after that. I had no dreams, I could have sworn I stayed up all night. A weak ray of moonlight fought with the drawn curtains for passage and only a quarter of it managed to squeeze through. And there the silence had conquered the whole house for not even the fire dared to defy it. The room felt cold and unforgiving as if it had long forgotten the coziness and welcome it gave in the mornings.

I decided to do something stupid. I stacked up my two pillows against each other and climbed to the top. Now, or never- This could be my chance to explore the house. Suddenly my first obstacle appeared: How do I get down?

In the end I threw both my pillows to the wooden planks. I had to grip on the railings tightly to balance myself on top of it. Besides, I doubted I could tie a knot with my blanket at this state. I also couldn't trust my legs to save me from the fall. I hopped and fell on the floor with a soft thump. I threw the pillows high above in hope that it would reach my crib and to my surprise it landed safely atop my matress. No one would be none the wiser.

I crab-walked towards the frontmost wall. From there I picked up a metal stick that leaned beside the side of the brick chimney. I sighed in relief that it wasn't hot-I think I saw the woman use it to stir up the firewood once. On the other hand, it was cold and had some kind of hooks at the end which makes it about my height if a few inches longer. I was certainly not going to take chances on being surprised by ghosts tonight. Or anybody else for that matter.

I made my way to the left wall to my crib with my improvised "weapon". It was quite hard to properly hold it with my lazy hand with it's weight and all. I was trying to balance myself without using both of my hands and wow, I can't believe I survived.

Walking through the halls at night and seeing shadows thrice your height is creepy. Every sound I hear whether it was a cricket's chirp or a hoot of an owl made me jump. I composed myself and quietly crept on with the poker pointing outwards. I patted the wall for support and looked around- there wasn't much furniture aside from a few cabinets but higher above a few dim frames;paintings were to be seen. The cabinets gathered beside the wall, and hanging above each was...

Hm.

I stepped back to see it from a better angle. The outline was long and had a curve with one end sticking out slightly thinner that the rest of it's body. Unfortunately I still couldn't make it out. I moved further and reached the end of the short hallway. There stood a wooden door stood at a warning angle to ward of anybody. It might have been my height that gave it such a menaching glare but I did not dare to try and open it.

Then door opened outwards and I scrambled backwards to avoid getting hit. I faced my poker in front of me. The woman came out of the room and halted. She tilted her head once her eyes rested on me.

Geez, how am I supposed to explain this?, I realized.

However she said nothing. She only picked me up and brought me back to my crib. She pulled the poker out of my hands and left again. Maybe she thought it was a dream or a hallucination from waking so late at this hour that she brushed this event off.

I laid down. There was no mistaking it. What I saw on a mantle piece was definitely a sword. And there was more than one of them.


End file.
